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First Training
First Trainings; A Vicious Regimen! "Again!" The call was roared out by an instructor, who stood amidst a field of the newest students. At his command, the students held their boken aloft, before slashing downward. The simple motion was one that Taiyo had come to hate; he had been doing it for the last hour or so solid, without any mention of a break, or a promise of something new. In short: he was quite bored with the technique. “Zanjutsu is the way of the sword, and it is the backbone of a Shinigami! When you all have enough power to call forth your own Zanpakutoh, you will understand that. Every Shinigami relies on their blade in all situations. Thus the mastery of each and every strike is essential for your survival against a Hollow. Do we understand!?" The instructor roared out, with the voice and tenacity of a drill sergeant. "Yes, Daisuke-sensei!" those gathered roared in unison, before making another strike downward. Taiyo, personally, was bored out of his mind at the thought of continuing to practice this single stroke. The effort that he was putting forth was reaping very little reward, though he could feel the sinews in his arms tightening and recoiling with every effort he made to attack. It was a strange strength, but it was there, growing and increasing every time he struck with the blade. Taiyo, so caught up in the monotonous work of slashing downward, his mind elsewhere, did not realize that the instructor was standing before him, watching his movements closely. "May I assist you, Daisuke-sensei?" The instructor watched him for a moment, as if trying to determine whether or not the man was having some sort of attitude. However, Taiyo's eyes were even, his tone neutral as he returned the look that the instructor was giving him. “Just wanted to know why you were looking so bored in my class,” he said simply, watching him. “Seems like you don't really care much about Zanjutsu.” Taiyo gave a slight shrug as he looked at the other. “It's not so much that, as I am curious as to why we're practicing with a weapon that may or may not share the same weight and ease of movement as our Zanpakutoh. Even if our Zanpakutoh has a similar weight, the way we handle it would be completely different, given its own dimensions.” There was a few seconds of silence, the other students watching the commotion, having stopped swinging their blades to look. Taiyo knew that it was because most of these people were children, in temperament if not in age. He didn't take well to being treated like a child, and even if he was getting himself in trouble for it, he would make his opinion known. “So you think you'd make a better instructor? Do you even know Zanjutsu?” the man spoke, poking a forefinger into Taiyo's chest. “Or are you going to teach everyone how to keep Hollows at bay with logic and rhetoric?” Taiyo said nothing, though his gaze darkened as he was prodded in the chest. “Your words do have a bit of truth in them, however...this is not to teach you form.” Taiyo raised a brow. “Oh? For all your talk about Zanjutsu, it seemed that it was all this lesson was about. Perhaps you could enlighten the rest of us as to your true motive?” he continued, not enjoying being the target of mockery and instead flipping the tables on the instructor. “It is to learn the basics, certainly, but this is to strengthen your bodies, to enhance yourselves so that you may form your own Zanpakutoh. No one here has one, and it's for that reason. None of you are strong enough to form it, yet. So this is to harden your bodies, to strengthen your soul, to make it so when you do have the necessary power to summon one, you'll be able to handle its weight.” Dai looked to Taiyo. “Now, do you have another reason for disrupting my class?” The man smirked. “None at all, Dai-sensei.” The instructor nodded, before glancing to the rest of the class, who had all stopped to watch the spectacle. He barked out an order to continue practicing, and the others quickly began to return to their previous motions. “And when we do form our Zanpakutoh?” Taiyo inquired, beginning to repeat the motions, as he had a better understanding of why he was doing an action that seemed repetitive and pointless. “Then you'll move onto a more specialized combat instructor,” Dai spoke, before regarding Taiyo again, the man seeming to have yet reached a point where he was even remotely tired. “And do you have time after class, Furimeru? Or later on today?” Dai's gaze was probing, curious. Like there was some element in Taiyo that was intriguing. The man shook his head. “I have a few more basic lessons right after this. After the day is out, I'm free. Why do you ask?” Taiyo kept his gaze straight ahead, focusing on performing the action to the best of his ability. If it was an action designed to strengthen his body, then he would perform it again and again, until he was at his limit...and then keep going. “I just have a theory I want to test. When you get out class, come back here.” Taiyo gave a single nod, before continuing the motion. His body, despite the constant movement, seemed to have very little difficulty in repeating the motions. Others around him were slowing down, or stopped entirely, taking a few breaths before they picked it back up. Taiyo, however, continued to move, unerringly, his eyes set and mind focused. The class ended a short while after that, several of the others very tired and panting for breath. Taiyo seemed untouched by fatigue, and merely went about his way, heading to the next class without hesitation. These Shinigami folk had taken him in, and he was going to repay them to the best of his ability, and at the moment, it seemed that gaining strength was the way to do this. “Tai!” he heard someone call and paused, turning around to glance behind him. Katsu approached, grinning like a demon. “Hey there kiddo; how was your first class with Dai? Tired?” Taiyo gave a slight shrug, grunting at being called 'kiddo.' “Not especially. Some of the others seemed winded though. It was mostly boring, to me. But Dai did want to meet with me after I got done with my classes. Something about testing a theory. So perhaps he'll realize I don't need to be in that class at all.” The man glanced at Katsu, who was still grinning. “And what are you so happy about?” The blond shook his head. “Nah, nothin'. But if Dai wanted to do some one-on-one training with ya, consider yourself lucky and unlucky. From what the rumors are, the folks that he likes to train personally get stronger pretty fast, but go through some serious Hell. So get ready for it.” With that, Katsu spun on his heel and darted through the crowd, heading for whatever class he had next. Taiyo grunted. “Weirdo.” The rest of the day went by fairly quickly, with Taiyo showing some fairly effective skill in Hakuda, turning most of his classmates on their heads before they knew what was happening. His Kido class was about the opposite, however, with him being able to (barely) snuff out a candle with Sho. Most of the other students had managed to take the wick out entirely, and a few even caused the wax to explode from the force of their Kido. The basic classes about the history of Soul Society and what they stood for, as well as the Hollows and what they represented were interesting to Taiyo. He wanted to find out more about the whole thing, about the various parts of the Shinigami, how the Zanpakutoh worked, Kido, everything. He felt that a few of the other students were getting tired of him constantly asking questions regarding various facets, but he was hungry for knowledge, absorbing it like a sponge. Finally, the end of the day came, and Taiyo gathered his things, before heading back to the yard where he'd been training earlier in the day with Dai. From what Katsu said...there was likely some intense training to be had, and Tai wanted every bit of it. He felt the only way that he could prove himself to his roommates, to Jinzo, and to the Shinigami as a whole was to gain strength. He couldn't do that if he pussy-footed around, so whatever avenue presented itself, he would take. “So you're here,” Dai spoke as Taiyo approached, the instructor having exchanged his Shinigami robes for a simpler, lighter kimono. “Feel free to change clothes inside; this isn't an official class, so you don't need to wear those heavy robes if you don't want to.” Tai gave a slight nod, heading inside with his bag. A few moments later, he emerged in his preferred wear, before cracking his neck once. “All right then,” Dai spoke, before tossing him a small circular object, about six to eight inches in diameter. Tai reached out to catch it, but as soon as his hands fell upon it, he could tell it was quite a bit heavier than what it seemed. He gave a grunt, but managed to keep it from landing on the ground, holding onto it. “The hell is this?” he spoke, curious about the weight of the ring. “Interesting,” Dai commented, watching Tai. “I know. It's small and heavy. My question is why?” Taiyo spoke, growling a bit in frustration. Dai cracked a small smile. “No, not the weight. You, my friend. You are interesting.” Taiyo didn't respond verbally, and instead merely arched an eyebrow. “Most Shinigami use their spiritual pressure to enhance their strength, their endurance. It's an instinctual thing, which is why you see folks who aren't much bigger than a toothpick able to compete on even grounds with others who are obviously larger and stronger.” “And why is this interesting?” Tai asked, not enjoying this game where he didn't know all the rules. “The part that's interesting, is that your spiritual pressure is extremely low. Meaning you're not using it to enhance your strength. That's all natural ability, right there.” Dai mused to himself silently for a moment, before hefting another one of the rings. “Here, clasp that one on one of your ankles, and this on the other.” Taiyo moved slowly, already beginning to understand what was happening, here. But he moved as requested, affixing the one he held to his right ankle, and after catching the second, attached it to his left. He gave a grunt, lifting a leg before trying to move forward. “These are a bit heavy,” he commented, forcing himself to walk at a light pace so as to not damage his muscles. Dai moved forward, holding two others. “Wrists,” he said simply, and Tai gave a slight sigh before extending his arms, allowing the teacher to affix the two to each of his wrists, which caused them to feel much heavier. “There. That should do it. How does that feel?” Dai spoke, watching Taiyo as the other struggled to move. “Annoying.” Taiyo gave a grunt, able to lift his arms and legs, but the strain was immense. “So what exactly is the point of these things?” he asked the teacher, for now, just trying to move, rather than anything else. “Is this some ridiculous idea of exercise?” Daisuke nodded. “Indeed. I don’t really know about ‘ridiculous,’ but it is a proven method of gaining strength. There are some of you who have very low spiritual strength, and there isn’t exactly a way to focus on your spiritual pressure to force it to raise. But this will train your body, and prepare it for more grueling training when your body is ready to accept more spiritual pressure.” The other frowned, looking back down at the clasped weights on his wrists and ankles. “So you plan to just have me wear these? Or what?” He hadn’t yet gotten used to the weight, but he could feel his body gradually adapting to it. “Well if that was the case, people wouldn’t really have stories to tell about me. Your training starts now, tonight. There’s no problem with that, right?” Daisuke asked, smirking at the other. Tai gave a grunt, before shrugging. “Good. Grab a boken.” The remainder of the evening involved Taiyo going over the basics of the sword with Daisuke watching and critiquing his every move. The movements were far from easy, now, with the added weights, and Tai found that he had much less time to focus on how boring the events were with his entire body wracked with pain. Each movement caused a flare of pain in the muscles of his arms and legs, but there was nothing he could do to stop it; he wanted the strength that would come with this training. Several hours passed, and by the end of it, Taiyo was panting heavily, his breathing haggard and his skin having paled a few shades. “That’s enough,” Daisuke spoke, and without needing a second opinion, Taiyo dropped his boken, dropping to his knees as he continued to gasp for air. “You’re one of the few that’s lasted this long. I’m not sure whether or not to think you’re tenacious or just stubborn,” the man said with a smirk, watching Taiyo as the fellow struggled to get up. “It’s just...a debt...” Taiyo managed to wheeze out, his body shuddering from exhaustion. Sweat dripped from what felt like every pore on his body, and his breathing was labored. “Just...something to...repay...” Daisuke gave a slight frown, folding his arms over his chest. “A debt? For what?” he asked, moving around Taiyo, watching him as he continued to force himself past a normal limit of someone who had just started training. “You have a debt to us at Soul Society?” he inquired. Taiyo let out a gurgling breath, coughing a few times before spitting out what looked like dried mucus. He forced himself to his feet, his eyes set, even as his body shuddered with every breath he drew in. “A place to live, a purpose. I entered here with nothing, and there was no reason for me to be taken in...but I was.” Taiyo took a step forward towards Daisuke, the other watching calmly. “Wrong. Though low, you exhibit spiritual energy, which means you have the potential to become a Shinigami. And after seeing what I saw today, training here, I am certain that you have the tenacity to become top-notch. So if that is what you need to do in order to fulfill your debt, then I will train you into the ground.” With that, Daisuke lifted his leg, bending it at the knee before slamming the heel into Taiyo’s chest, sending him airborne for a moment before he crashed to the ground. “Get up.” Tai’s eyes rolled back in his head as he struggled to keep conscious. He gave a low grunt, forcing himself to breathe as he sat up again. “The hell...was that..?” he asked, ignoring the pain that his body was feeling at each movement. Every muscle twinge was like a searing flame across his body, every movement bringing untold torrents of pain...but he moved. He forced himself up to his feet, his breathing ragged and heavy, but his eyes were trained on Daisuke. “Is this...some stupid...way of training..?” he panted out. Daisuke smirked, moving to repeat the previous movement of kicking the student down. Taiyo gave a low growl, and, despite his arms feeling completely numb due to the weights on them, he forced them up in front of him in an X shape, blocking the kick, at least somewhat. He still moved backwards a few steps, but he was still standing. “Not bad. But even with all of this training, your reiatsu hasn’t increased even a little. We might have to push you even harder.” Daisuke smirked, the boken in his hand resting against the crook of his neck. “Can you take it tonight?” “Bring it on.” When Taiyo finally returned to his apartment, it was well into the night, and the man's body had all but broken. He had lost count of how long he had trained with Daisuke, and how far he had pushed himself. He doubted that the next day would be an easy one for him to get through...but he really didn't have a whole lot of choice. After clambering the last few steps, he gave a mild grunt as he opened the door, stepping inside. “The hell happened to you?” The voice, predictably, was Katsu's, who watched Taiyo's beaten form with a grin. “Did you go a few rounds with Daisuke, then? I warned you that he wasn't anything to be taken lightly.” The man's grin faded after a few seconds of Taiyo's unresponsiveness. “You gonna make it, bro?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorway. “You look like death.” Taiyo gave a grunt, rubbing his face. “I guess. Put through hell for the last six hours, and still able to stand; that has to count for something.” He took a few steps forward, having to use the wall for support as he moved. “But according to Daisuke, my spiritual pressure didn't increase at all during that. So it might have just been a waste of time.” He rubbed his wrists, which were red and raw from the added weight he'd been forced to train with. “From what I understand, spiritual pressure tends to increase at a multiplicative rate, not an additive one,” Zeroth spoke from the next room, having overheard the conversation. “Meaning that if you are starting with a very low amount, it is going to take you much longer to catch up with the others around you. When you have, however, you will then predictably grow at a faster rate, as you are used to more intense training.” He paused, and it sounded like he was sipping some tea. “Or so I have been led to understand.” With a sigh, Taiyo made his way from the entry way to the living room, where Zeroth sat, his nose in a book. “So I have to make up the difference with more training? When would you suppose I would form a Zanpakutoh, seeing as you seem to know quite a bit on the subject?” He was curious, wanting to actually get to that point in his training so he could learn to use the weapon. “Or am I going to have a many days of this to look forward to?” Zeroth turned a page in his book, before using his finger as a bookmark as he closed it before looking up. “Even now, with all the information that we have at our disposal, there is no exact science for determining one's spiritual pressure or the Zanpakutoh. It seems to be stemmed from the way you lived in life, or, if you were born here, it depends on your environment. There is no way to tell when it will form, or how it will, but from what I have heard, the size of the weapon is derived from your amount of spiritual pressure. “But even this might just be myth, as my blade,” he spoke, drawing his own sword from his back, the zanpakutoh a light, rapier-like blade, “is actually the smallest of the three of us, and I have the strongest spiritual pressure.” He spun it once before sliding the weapon back into the scabbard. “So its size and form could be completely independent of it, or those of great strength could be subconsciously compressing it.” Taiyo gave a grunt, his mind trying to absorb the information that he was being given, despite the fact that he was struggling at this moment to stay conscious. “I see. So what you're telling me is that I should continue to train at this dangerous level to increase my spiritual pressure as much as possible, and hope that my weapon appears soon. My...zanpakutoh.” Zeroth gave the man a simple nod. “I see. Then I should probably get some rest. I doubt my body could handle anything else today.” The man gave a grunt before moving towards his room, forcibly digging his nails into his palm to try to keep himself awake. The haze of sleep was already threatening to overtake him, and try as he might, there wasn't a whole lot that he could do to stave it off. He was vaguely aware of Touketsu asking him if he wanted some tea, but he didn't think that his reply was coherent in the least as he shut the door behind him to his room, collapsing onto the bed. ~~ >i...hunger...< Taiyo sat up with a start, panting heavily. A sheen of cold sweat covered his body, and his head was pounding. “What...” he began, before he shook his head slowly, trying to clear his mind. Glancing at the window, he could see that the sun still hadn't risen; it was well before it was necessary for him to awaken. And yet...there was a sudden rush of adrenaline pumping through him, and something...more, though he couldn't put a finger on it. It wasn't fear, but it was close. "Taiyo." The man blinked, glancing at the door to his room. The voice had belonged to Zeroth, just now. “Yes?” he spoke, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. “Are you all right? There was a spike of spiritual pressure from your room. Make sure there is no one else in there with you. The pressure was...unfamiliar.” Tai breathed a slow breath, trying to calm himself down before he stood up, his body aching everywhere. His eyes had been adjusted to the darkness, and he looked about, trying to sense anything that might have caused it. “I think...I'm fine. I can't sense anything else in here. Are you sure you sensed something?” There was silence on the other side of the door for several seconds, before an answer finally came through. “Perhaps not. Get some rest.” Taiyo frowned, feeling the pressure belonging to Zeroth begin to move away from the door. That was very...odd, and combined with the dream, and the feelings he'd had when he woke up...he didn't know what to think. The man rubbed his face slowly before the feelings of exhaustion began to weigh in again, and he felt his eyelids growing heavy... ~ Zeroth shut the door behind him, glancing up at Katsu and Touketsu. “I'll assume you felt it too, then.” “What the hell was that? Was that Tai?” Katsu asked, frowning. His hair was disheveled and he looked as if he was quite irritated about being woken up by something. Touketsu frowned. “It...didn't feel like him. It felt like...” “A Hollow,” Zeroth finished for her, as the woman didn't seem like she would be able to finish the sentence. “Despite being a rookie Shinigami with almost no energy of himself to speak of, that spiritual pressure was definitely Menos Grande level.” “So what? You think he's one of those... whatever the hell they're called?” Katsu asked, frowning as he scratched at his jaw. “The Shinigami who get Hollow powers.” Zeroth shook his head. “Vaizard. And he's too weak. It's something else entirely, is my guess. We'll have to keep an eye on him until we figure out what's causing that.” Katsu and Touketsu nodded, before they moved back to go to their rooms. The stern male frowned, glancing back at the door that led to Taiyo's room. “Curious, indeed.” ~ Taiyo's eyes opened, but he wasn't in the room that he fell asleep in. In fact, he wasn't in a room at all, but in what appeared to be a pure black area. There was nothing below him, and nothing above. The darkness that he stood upon seemed endless, and it gave him a brief sense of vertigo. Shaking his head, he looked around again, wondering where he was. He opened his mouth to speak, even if only to hear his own voice, but even as he made words, they were gone before they even left his mouth. >Do not try to speak, here. It will be to no avail.< The voice that spoke in his mind was deep, guttural...and dangerous. Taiyo looked about again, trying to see something, anything that might give him a tip as to what the owner of that voice. >Sight, too, is gone. Welcome to my world, Taiyo Furimeru. I am Kuikorosu, your Zanpakutoh.<